Looking Back #suffering #hope

Behind me

shadows of frozen pain

I choose to forget

It was many winters ago now. Life was empty and what little I had was slipping through my fingers. “You have cancer” were words I could not bear to add to my void.

The scepter of fear wanted to rob days and precious memories that might be the last with young children.

Hope comes in strange forms as does healing.

The hospital I was admitted to was an Oasis for those with little to cling to.

This week I lost my little sister to Cancer. Her fingers slowly lost grip of this life. She was cheerful at the end and surrounded by love.

He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power.

~Hebrews 1:3

We have no control or our days or when they might slip away but we have a hope in Christ. He cures the sick, the suffering and the person in bondage.

Refreshed #search #truth

 

“Come to the water

stand by my side

I know you are thirsty

you wont be denied”

Words that we sang

we could drink deep

take refreshing sips

the well is always full

There are days I doubt

distracted by drought

 when I have been starving

  clothes threadbare

you have always provided

what I needed

even in my disbelief

you shared your pool of mercy

where I could bathe in hope

 

Do you ever face days where you can’t see past the trial or the trouble? Do the words “He will provide” seem trite? I cannot count for you how many times He has provided food for my family when the cupboards (and bank account) were bare. I am reminded of the prayer of my child for shoes and the next day I was given money that bought four pairs of shoes for my little ones. And the prayers of a preteen whose best friend has just lost her mom when we find out I also have cancer.

Sometimes life seems like Russian Roulette and The doctor says “you might live and you might die.”

In a van going to another country to get alternate treatment the woman next to me tells me her bleak story. “There are very few healthy cells left in my body. Maybe a month left now and so I made this trip as a last hope even if it can buy more time with my kids. They have no one except me. No one…” Her 18 year old son sits next to her. He is her designated caregiver because there is no one else.

Cancer takes on a new meaning for me as God pulls me out of my own dark reverie to pray without ceasing for this young mom.

I am assured not beaten down

I am certain that God has a plan not destruction

I am lifted up on eagles wings not on a paper airplane…

Weeks of treatment go by. The woman has had many up and downs. I sit with her one day during treatment and she starts going downhill. She hands me her PET scan. “The cancer is diminished. I may have more than a year now.” As she leaves the hospital she hands me her PET scan done that day. There are little bitty pieces of cancer. I am going home with more than a figthing chance and I know many prayers…”

 

If this God cares about shoes and a woman’s cells then does He also not care for your circumstances? What about the World’s?”

CoVid-19 is indeed scary so is having no money.

He knows your every need He hears your every prayer!!!

“You keep track of all my sorrows.
    You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
    You have recorded each one in your book.”

~Psalm 56:8

 

All for the Last Time #poetry #cancer #photography

 

While he is living all his firsts

steps that rockforth  and tumble

words that jumble into Da and Ma

terrible two tempers that rumble

colored flecks in baby eyes

I’ll never know where his future lies

I will be living my lasts

springtime  never been greener

revealing the bulbs with my gardening rake

easter eggs treasures my grandson and I hunt

blowing out the last candles on my cake

placing the last pictures from my past

I will be parting with too few goodbyes

laying my walking friend away

wanting one more dawn to see love in your eyes

so many words I need to say

friends to enjoy hug’s last memory

it’s the last time in my rocker I’ll  cry

walking stick

 

This poem was tearfully begotten after hearing that a young woman (of 19) with a toddler is losing her mother to cancer. There is something so poignant about breathing your last sea salt day and never having time to take pictures of your grandchildren.

 

 

All I Have Are Ashes #Akhmatova #poet #societalcancer

 winter scene

I’ve cried for seventeen long months,
I’ve called you for your home,
I fell at hangmen’ feet – not once,
My womb and hell you’re from.
All has been mixed up for all times,
And now I can’t define
Who is a beast or man, at last, 
And when they’ll kill my son.
There’re left just flowers under dust,
The censer’s squall, the traces, cast
Into the empty mar…
And looks strait into my red eyes
And threads with death, that’s coming fast,
The immense blazing star.

~above is an excerpt from “Requiem ” by Anna Akhmatova*

Tears mingle in the dirt
whose ashes are these?
they look familiar
momentarily my tears sparkle in the mud
“oh yes that was my first love
he died at the hand of Lenin
my son is still awaiting my tears”
the ashes have worked their way
into the fabric of one shoe
clinging to memory
“please God  give my frailty a purpose”
this shoe I ask that they not take 
I must cling to it for warmth

when the winter breezes dry my once fresh skin
kiss my cheek with remnants of him…
~mdw

(my echo of a poem to this Russian woman who knew such pain)

Anna Akhmatova is known as one of Russia’s finest female poets. She lived during a time when freedom of artistic expression was unwelcome. Her losses were many…

This is being shared with Poets’ United Midweek Motif the topic Cancer.

This recent poem Winter’s Accusation deals with cancer the disease. I write occasionally about it but I usually try to stay clear of those doors.

Winter’s Accusation #poetry #cancer #photography

bench.jpg

You can’t know how many times

I walk past that door

that stands slightly ajar

out of that crack light used to stream

now there are silent accusations

reminders that today might be my last

and I hug the threshold

brave lines etch my brow

you won’t know

but the legs beneath me

waver just slightly

and I try not to touch the edges

the sharp ones that cut my fingertips

mocking me with whispers

“it’s your last”

“you can’t pass the next test”

so I stay away from them

and look for one more day to smile

at someone who is lost and cold

 

I have given up counting the number of times I’ve been told I was going to die within days or months. I’ve died once (yes really) and I don’t fear death. Saying that, I have seen the slow receding tide of cancer; my heart goes out to anyone who has seen the tide go out on life.

 

Oasis #dailypost #poetry #health

water and light

Cancer

that awful scourge

people gasping

in pain

there it was

a stream

smallest trickle

of hope

for some it offered healing

an Oasis

peaceful breeze

flowed into our beings

we waited not for death

but life

 

This minimalistic poem is about a real place (a hospital called Oasis) where I daily saw death and moment by moment saw renewal of life and spirit.

This poem in response to the Dpchallenge – Oasis

Tomorrow #pain #amwriting #poetry

The sun will come up …

Tomorrow

and I bet

I’ll face this all

tomorrow

it’s not fun

*

Just thinking about

tomorrow

cancer eats the joy

and leaves a sorrow

today its won

*

When Im stuck in a day

that’s sad and lonely

I must fall on my knees

and hope

and pray

*

Tomorrow

Tomorrow

 a pain free

tomorrow

is always a hope

away

*****

Annie’s Version:

Tomorrow

The sun’ll come out
Tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
There’ll be sun!

Just thinkin’ about
Tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs,
And the sorrow
‘Til there’s none!

When I’m stuck a day
That’s gray,
And lonely,
I just stick out my chin
And Grin,
And Say,
Oh!

The sun’ll come out
Tomorrow
So ya gotta hang on
‘Til tomorrow
Come what may
Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
I love ya Tomorrow!
You’re always
A day
A way!

From Annie

The prompt at Never Ending Story is Tomorrow and at Poet’s United – Verse First is Ordinary.

Some of us face extreme pain as part of our daily, ordinary lives.  I have managed 22 pain filled years without narcotics (except when I’ve been hospitalized).

You can sing my version of “Tomorrow” I have.  I added Annie’s version because she faced a wall of Tomorrows and managed a smile with each one. To each of you who are enduring I hope for a sun filled Tomorrow.

What of Life? #questions #poetry #photography

To know everything implies that I know something

“what” I ask of myself  “do I know”?

When the sails of life luff I may not be going anywhere

When the umpire emphatically cries “You’re out!” – I am

When the doctor tells me I have cancer I have no questions

What about those times in which I know nothing?

When the first  thunder booms can I get under cover in time?

When a patient squeezes my hand  for the last time is there more I could have done?

When my child makes a bad decision can I change it?

But there are those moments…

when feathery leaves dance with the dawn, I can’t contain the wonder

when a young dolphin squeals as if it is laughing, I must laugh

when I’m held lovingly through  life’s storms, I am comforted

“no” I answer myself  “I do not know anything”

with each day I cherish life and people a bit more…

At Poet’s United,  Verse First Kim Nelson has prompted the poet today. In Writing Down the BonesNatalie Goldberg says, “In writing you can know everything.” So today, be omniscient. Be a know-it-all, an expert; be the last word. Write a poem with a voice of authority.

Here is my last word then – I have to agree with those who have gone before me “The older I get the less I know.”

Photograph: “The Last “Ha” © L. Moon 2013

Time is ticking away #death #life #poetry

hour-glass-black-n-white

they asked me when I was a kid

how long they thought i’d live

i said” i don’t know

maybe after the world is covered with snow.”

they asked me when I was a sailor

how long I thought til it was over?

i shook my head,

“my best friend yesterday at 20 was dead”

they asked me when i was a dad

“how long do you think you have?”

“i’d like to be old as a good wine

maybe that would be 99.”

“they asked me how long now that you are 88?”

“it’s waiting for death I hate

i hope ungrateful i do not sound

of life i’d like another round”

This is dedicated to a dear friend who was like my dad as I was growing up. Each day now is  a battle with cancer…

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